


Passive

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, chance of dubious consent but it doesn't go that far, full scourge, slice of life in your favourite evil empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 09:43:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21195599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Ardyn doesn't go full scourge very often but when he does it's all about staying as small, uninteresting and nonthreatening as possible until the storm passes.





	Passive

The morning has been a shit show. The daemon isn’t bigger than Verstael or his crew are used to handling but something set it off today, something strong, and it turned so perfectly savage they couldn’t contain it. Verstael wasn’t worried mind you, not with Ardyn on site, but when the Scourge started struggling with the thing…

Verstael’s never seen Ardyn work up such a sweat. This damn thing just didn’t want to die. It didn’t seem to matter how many bullets they loaded into it. Then it fell, with Ardyn, into lower containment. Verstael and two of his armed lab assistants followed them down the shaft quickly.

After Verstael punches the access code he raises his rifle and slips into the shoddily lit lower access. His lab assistants hang back, a good ten feet behind him, and Verstael gestures for them to spread out and start looking. It’s quite down here. A bad sign. Verstael should be able to hear Ardyn scrapping with the daemon. Is he unconscious? It would take more than an angry snake to kill Ardyn but he’s still susceptible to a crack on the skull. It’ll slow him down.

Creeping between the containment cells and crates Verstael keeps his rifle ready to fire. He’s not fucking around with this thing. He—

He moves towards the soft sound he can make out.

He rounds the corner of a crate to the sight of Ardyn hunched over the daemon’s freshly steaming corpse. Verstael is caught between relief and something else. What is that sound?

“What’re—?”

Verstael immediately regrets speaking as Ardyn whips his head around. He’s full scourge, all black pestilence, and there’s no shortage of monster gore on his person either. It seems, from what Verstael can make out when Ardyn moves, that he was _eating_ the corpse.

Not a good sign.

Ardyn rarely slips totally into the pits of his condition and the results seem volatile to say the least. He’s still Ardyn, somewhere, but buried under layers of daemonic savagery and bloodlust. The urge to spread, kill, infect… the pestilence takes charge of his upper brain function and just wants to assert itself by causing as much damage as physically possible.

Dark rimmed eyes are locked on Verstael, unwavering, and making the decision he absolutely wants to live through this Verstael gently lowers his rifle as Ardyn shifts to his feet.

Verstael has the advantage of being a known quantity. Ardyn and he have a long-held understanding. Verstael freed him from captivity, they’re partners in crime, and somewhere under all that scourge Ardyn will be fighting to come back to himself. It just might take a while.

Verstael has the rifle limp by his hip but refuses to drop it as Ardyn comes closer.

The scourge pauses in front of him and Verstael supposes he’ll go for the rifle but Ardyn’s hand instead yanks the radio off his belt and thrusts it at his chest.

Complying Verstael locks his fingers around the device and grunts;

“Lawrence, Hayes, come in. Over.”

His lab assistants sound off quietly.

“Make for the exits. I’ll be back up later. The Chancellor and I have this under control. Over.”

The men might argue some other day, some other time, but they want to be in this basement with a fucking daemon even less than Verstael does so they scamper to comply. Maybe they have faith in Verstael? Maybe they’d just rather his head than theirs? Both are legitimate.

The main door opens and closes loudly over the crates obscuring the path.

They’re alone.

“Ardyn—” Verstael starts gently.

Ardyn yanks the radio and tosses it. The rifle goes next. It skitters and discharges into a wall over another crate. Verstael winces. Okay then. Ardyn doesn’t feel like talking yet.

The point here is to stay passive, nonthreatening, until the storm passes.

Verstael doesn’t think Ardyn, normal smug shit-eating-grin Ardyn, would ever hurt him intentionally. Not unless Verstael betrayed him outright and then its anyone’s guess. But Ardyn doesn’t hurt his allies just for entertainment. But scourge infested? Ardyn could hurt him very seriously by accident. Not good.

Verstael lowers his hands again, trying to remain as uninteresting as possible. Ardyn takes a rattling inhale, grumbling something Verstael can’t make out, and presses even closer. Verstael stumbles, trying to step back, but Ardyn grabs the front of his lab coat and yanks him back.

“Ardyn,” Verstael tries again, slowly. “It’s just me.”

Ardyn grunts, head shaking like an animal with something in it’s mouth, and growling he comes back up from the distraction looking feral. Verstael rests his hands on Ardyn’s elbows and doesn’t fight back. He just waits. Ardyn seems to be chewing on something, mentally speaking, and if its whether or not to eat him alive Verstael would rather the mortal part of Ardyn’s soul come out victorious.

Verstael isn’t a huge fan of using his body or some inane sentimentality to assert an unfair advantage over anyone but Ardyn is literally out of his mind right now. They’ve been involved for some time now, several years if Verstael thinks about it for a second, and this can’t be comfortable so squeezing Ardyn’s elbows he leans forward to gently rest his forehead against the older man’s chin.

Verstael takes a pointedly deep breath.

Ardyn growls, low and guttural, but doesn’t release him from his grip.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Verstael promises, “it’s okay.”

Ardyn coils his fingers in his lab coat a little too tight, enough that the fabric audibly starts to give, but Verstael stays still and waits. Ardyn hasn’t lashed out yet. He just has to keep buying them time until Ardyn can come back up to the surface.

In a flash Ardyn jerks him to the right and slams him back into a stack of crates. Verstael gasps, hands flying to Ardyn’s wrists, but he schools his racing heart to calm down. He’s okay. Ardyn is always too rough like this but he didn’t make an outright aggressive gesture.

Ardyn forces his head down and growling buries his face against Verstael’s neck. Verstael tries to breathe, tries to relax, letting Ardyn yank his collar down roughly so he can lick and suck at his bare neck. Verstael groans, eyes squeezing shut. That shouldn’t be hot. He can feel the scourge from Ardyn’s mouth rubbing off against him. It’s… it’s a kind of discharge. It doesn’t seem to be enough to actively infect him from what Verstael’s noted in tests. It seems there has to be some intention behind the infection; like a curse, like magic.

Ardyn’s leg forces its way in between his thighs, pushing him up on his tiptoes, and Verstael just tries to breathe. Okay, they’ve never done this before but Verstael always sort of expected this might come up. He’s not terrified by any means; rough sex is better than actual violence and he likes sex with Ardyn. If this helps…. Well, try everything once right? He just hopes he can keep Ardyn from accidentally breaking any bones.

Ardyn grinds against him and trying to school him back to sanity Verstael gives into the touch. He arches his hips, purrs gently, wrapping one arm around Ardyn’s shoulders and sinking the opposing hand in his hair. He strokes, he pushes into, he’s_ willing_.

Ardyn makes a pained, frustrated, noise and ruts a little harder. Verstael holds him tight turning his face towards Ardyn’s temple. There’s another hiss, a grumble in what must be Lucian but is heavily distorted…

Ardyn pulls back far enough to tug at his clothes. Verstael complies quickly in helping Ardyn divest him of his lab coat and yank up his shirt. Shirt, tie… the whole ensemble, has to go_ now_. When it’s gone Verstael pulls him back and Ardyn’s nails drag over him the scourge scrambling for purchase around him like he wants to touch everything. Verstael can feel more gore and scourge rubbing into his bare skin. He’ll worry about that later. He’s been in way grosser situations. It’s the reality of organic lab work sometimes. He can do this.

Ardyn’s hands become less frantic, his hold more secure, and buried against him Ardyn takes a shuddering breath. Verstael exhales with him, deep and steady, and as they do so Ardyn seems to sag like a sack of bones.

Ardyn starts to sink and following him down gently Verstael ends up curled on his ass with Ardyn half in his arms, half in his lap, but mostly between his legs.

Ardyn takes another rattling breath and withdrawing one tight hand from around Verstael has the sense of mind to wipe some scourge off his face.

Verstael pets his hair.

“Apologies,” Ardyn groans, swimming slowly back to the surface.

“It’s okay,” Verstael assures.

“No,” Ardyn murmurs, “you shouldn’t have to see that…”

“It’s just you,” Verstael shrugs, “I’d sooner you than any other man in Nifleheim.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you…”

“_You didn’t_,” Verstael stresses. “I’m fine. Not a scratch.” 

Ardyn sighs and Verstael kisses his stupid forehead through all his thick hair. Fucking idiot.

Ardyn holds him tight again but its not scourge this time, it’s just… Guilt? Affection? Protectiveness? Some heady combination of all of the above. Verstael can’t be sure but he knows that’s Ardyn squeezing him not the daemon nastiness writhing under his skin.

“We should get out of this awful hole,” Ardyn murmurs, lifting his dirty face.

“I think we could both use a shower.” Verstael snorts agreeably, petting his neck and clavicle with one hand.

“I’m sorry,” Ardyn repeats somberly.

“Oh shut up,” Verstael dismisses. “Come on, up we go, you’re getting in the shower with me you miserable fucking drama queen.”

Ardyn laughs dryly, coming up to his feet with Verstael. He bends down to pick up Verstael’s shirt and helps the other man slip back into it for now.

“What would I do without you?” Ardyn murmurs fondly, eyes all misty and stupid.

“You’d be a fucking disaster,” Verstael nods curtly. “That’s why you’re stuck with me forever. It’s your punishment for being an idiot.”

“I should be so lucky.” 

“Ugh, _stop._” Verstael shoves him, hauling him back a second later to help them both hobble out of the lower storage. 


End file.
